


Voodoo magic?

by kittybenzedrine



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Gen, Genetics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-28 06:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5082024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittybenzedrine/pseuds/kittybenzedrine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our lovely white bread Lone Wanderer questions his genetics.</p><p>Now updated to be slightly less shitty!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voodoo magic?

**Author's Note:**

> How James and Catherine made a white LW legit keeps me up at night

"Hey, Dad?"

"Yes, Benjamin?"

Ben leaned against the door frame to his father's office, keeping it from automatically shutting. His arms were crossed at his chest, ankles crossed as well as he slanted his weight to the metal frame.

"I, uh. I have a question. Well, more than one, but you know what I mean."

James sighed heavily, stowing his notes in his desk. "Come sit down, son."

Reluctantly, Ben crossed the room and sat down across from his father. He crossed his legs, hands nervous in his lap. The door automatically shut after a moment, leaving the two of them in a private manner.

"So, uh, today in class. We were learning about genetics and that shit. How genes get passed down. Punnett squares. Gregor Mendel and his fuckin' peas." Ben shrugged at his own ramblings. "So, that led me to a few questions," he told him, fingers taping nervously on his Pip-Boy screen.

"There's no need to be nervous, Benjamin. You know I'm open with you, especially if it's about your mother like I think it is. I'll tell you as much as I know. Ask away. And watch your language."

His son nodded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Yeah yeah, shit and fuck are bad words, whatever. Well. I kinda wanted to know if I look more like mom than you."

James smiled at his child, hoping to soothe his nerves. "You look more like me. You've got her nose and jaw structure, but that's about it."

"Oh. Alright. I don't really see it, was why I was asking. I don't really know what she looks like cause we never talked about it, so I was wondering if I got my blonde hair and blue eyes from her. Cause you're a brunet and have hazel eyes, y'know. "

The older man let out a bemused sound, drawing a curious look from Ben. "Oh, no, Benjamin. Your mother was black. Dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes."

Ben stared silently at him for a moment, before squinting at him and cocking his head. "... No?"

It was James' turn to squint. "Yes? I had been with her since I was in my twenties. I clearly remember what she looked like."

"Then either she had some explaining to do, I'm a mutant, I'm adopted, or you two did voodoo magic, because I'm genetically impossible."

"Benjamin-"

"No, Dad, for real. You're a doctor, you should know this. Hear me out. You have black hair, hazel eyes, skin a little darker than mine. You said she had black hair, brown eyes, brown skin. Correct?"

James took a deep breath. "Well... Yes."

"Exactly! So how the hell do I have super pale skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes, if the both of you are my biological parents and I have no genetic mutations? I don't have any generic, uh, shit, what's the word?"

"Anomalies?"

"Anomalies, yeah. I don't have any of those. I don't have any form of albinism, and I know I'm yours because I'm basically a carbon copy of you. So how did a black woman and medium toned white man produce an ultra white baby?"

They both sat silently, staring hard at each other for a few minutes. The longer it went on, the more awkward it became. Finally, Ben broke the silence.

"... Did you do voodoo magic?" He asked in a quiet, hesitant tone.

"Yes. We did voodoo magic and you're the result," James agreed, instead of revealing that he _still_ had no clue how his sons genetics worked. He watched Ben get up and head towards the door, face pulled into fake cheerfulness.

"Well this has been a fun talk. In fact, I'm more confused than when I walked in! I'll see you at dinner, and I'll most definitely be drunk on your alcohol. Bye, Dad!"

 

 

James sat there in silence for the better half of an hour, shoulders hunched. Punnett squares. Gregor Mendel and his _fucking peas_.

"Voodoo magic," he mumbled to himself with a small shake of his head, pulling his notes back out of his desk.


End file.
